O so alive! today she feels,
will even jump and prance;
a tiny, curly lock
may
fall right down and play
with angel-eyes in France
Asparagus‘ scent is worth
a dozen windy smiles;
just now thy earthly things
can stay
beneath her greenish ties
In dusty haze
when moons show up
a bird will quietly sing
of Eleanor,
the happy nun, in love with God in spring
